Albus Severus Potter and the Malevolent Hound
by Sourdust
Summary: The adventures of Albus Severus Potter and his friends, as their time at Hogwarts begins in a tumultous fashion...
1. Chapter 1: Five Fiends

_Albus Severus Potter and the Malevolent Hound._

The autumn sun shone heavily on Albus' head as the train pulled away from the station, his hand waving until it ached. His father began to slowly recede, the black hair blurring with the other colours of the others. Lily's downcast face stretched and twisted into the distance, and only his mother's bright hair could be seen.

Rose had gotten down from the window before him, and seeing that Albus was in no mood to talk, had slipped a book from her bags and had begun to read. Albus reluctantly accepted that they were gone, and sat himself down on the seat. _Gryffindor or Slytherin_, the twin halves of his brain continued to whisper.

The carriages were pretty, ornate things, a world away from the Muggle streets which his father had forced them to live among. He wanted the children to see both sides of the world, and to understand that no one side had any superiority to the other. James would whine and complain when Harry dragged them through the Muggle, while Lily was full of curiosity and questions, and often asked Harry questions about his childhood. His father was always reluctant to answer such queries.

Albus, however, was always silent. He enjoyed walking through the streets, but didn't much mind not knowing every facet of Muggle life. There was a certain beauty about the dirt and grime of the city; the beggars in their rags, the selfishness and repressed horror as people went about their lives. It was sad, but Albus always liked the melancholy.

James was his father's son, in truth. Albus was more thoughtful, more piercing. His green eyes were even brighter than Harry's, and rather than Harry's quiet but firm attitude towards life, Albus was far more inward and melancholy. James was brash and full of adolescent rage, but Albus found such incoherent action… tiring. He liked to read, to explore the thousand worlds hidden in the pages of a book. His head was filled with fantasies of war and romance, fire and angels, and had little patience for Quidditch when London was covered in snow, or when the sun cast tilting shadows through the trees.

He was cursed with his names, he supposed. He didn't like people calling him by both his first names. Albus was a good name; respectable, famed, intelligent. Severus was cursed. He knew what his father had told him about Severus Snape- of his sacrifice, intelligence, love and bravery. But after hearing the story so many times, Albus was not so sure…

Those two names seemed like voices in his head. A cold serpent and a brash lion wrestled for control of his brain. He called them Dumbledore and Snape, and they seemed like two halves of a whole. But the latter was always dominant. He could not help but see the world in a cynical, grey lense, and allow the green to slither past the red in his decisions.

But if the Sorting Hat did allow one to choose… his father had never told him that. For a moment, it had seemed a comfort to him- that he would be able to make a choice- but what was the purpose in doing so? The Hat knew best. Honesty was better than living a false life. And Albus was convinced that the end result would be a false life, if he chose against what the Hat thought.

He sighed, and looked out of the window. Rose looked up, a hint of concern upon her ordinarily bright face. "Cheer up! We're going to Hogwarts! You know how good it will be! Both our parents have been going on about it for years, so it must be."

Albus ignored that. "What are you reading?"

Rose grinned. Albus knew how to deflect her; she loved talking about books. So did he, admittedly. "A History of the Goblin Rebelllions, 1518-1648." Did you know that-"

"Yes, Rose. I read that one three years ago. I _gave_ you that book for your birthday, remember?" Albus smiled quietly as he said it, and as his cousin blushed and hid again behind her books. People were easy to deal with. He didn't like manipulating them so, but he had no wish to talk about his anxieties. He stared out of the window, watching the countryside flit past, all the greens and greys moving in timeless fervour.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here."

The girl grinned down at her prey. It was not hard, with the simple and undetectably small amounts of magic, to be able to climb walls without footholds. Her wand was slipped gently down her sleeve, her hand barely touching it. The little blond boy stared up at her, terrified. She jumped down, kneeling over him with a malevolent grin.

"Name's Vera. What's yours, little one?"

The boy swallowed, looking for a way out. "S-Scorpius."

They lingered, staring into each other's eyes for a split second, before Vera laughed, and got off him. "Oh, dear lord, _Scorpius_? What sadistic bastard of a parent would name their child _Scorpius_?"

Scorpius dragged himself onto the seat opposite. "A rich one", he said coldly.

Vera grinned at him again, as she lazed across the other seat. She was not exactly what one would call pretty. Her hair was long, and unkempt, and her face was deathly pale. But there was a kind of feverish activity which pervaded her features, and a particularly malevolently charming smile.

"Well. A find to-do this have proved to be. Six months ago, I was sitting at the table, eating my toast like a good little girl, when an owl hits the window carrying a letter. The parents did not, naturally, believe a word it said, but then a very nice woman with a toad came along and turned my pet goldfish into something called a Puffskein. It's rather a neat little thing, to be honest", she said, pulling a small pink ball out of her bag. It blinked twice at her, and then went back to sleep.

"So, Scorpy. What's your story?" Scorpius still looked frightened, but nevertheless puffed his chest out as he spoke.

"I'll have you know that I come from many generations of noble pure-bloods, you M- you muggle-born!"

This made Vera laugh even more than at his name. "Aww, how cute! A little racist of my very own. Well, you little rat, if you try anything then I'll hex your ears off." She stared in contemplation at the wall for a while, as the boy looked down, subdued.

"Which house do you think you will be in?" She stared sharply at Scorpius, as she tossed the Puffskein into the air. He hadn't thought he'd care to ask questions.

She shrugged. "God knows. As long as it's not Gryffindor. They seem to be rather dull, really. You?"

Scorpius puffed out his chest a second time, and it was hard for Vera not to roll her eyes before he even began talking. "_I_ will be in Slytherin, naturally. My whole family have been in there. My father will accept nothing less."

Vera sighed at him. "If family is the only thing you have, why are you even here? Why not just get a private tutor to instill all these values of pure-bloodednes and pig-headedness into you directly?"

Scorpius had to stifle a smile at that. "Father says that Slytherin's where you make connections. Get to know the best people. He wasn't always rich and prosperous, he says."

"Yes he was." They both turned to see another figure at the door. A thin, slight creature with auburn hair and a solemn, serious expression. "You're a Malfoy, aren't you? The Malfoys have been rich a long time. Sure, your grandfather lost a lot of his money after the war, but you've always been the richest folk in the country, for all the good it's done you."

Vera glared slightly at him. "Clear off, Sol, this is my rich kid. I'm mentoring him to become an upstanding member of society, not you."

Sol smiled a little smile, and sat down next to Vera. "Pay no attention to her, Scorpius. She's annoyed at me that I never told her I was a wizard growing up."

"You could have mentioned _something_", said Vera. "I mean, they have _chocolate frogs_ here. Which move! And jump around! Which raises all sorts of epistemological questions by itself!"

Sol glanced sharply at her. "Since when did you know a word like epistemological? You're eleven!"

"I've been reading. You spent most of our childhood doing it, thought I'd try."

As the two bantered back and forth, Scorpius stared out of the window. Vera's Scottish accent was a little irritating to hear. Muggle-borns. He was told not to like Muggle-borns. He was told they were "inferior"- but she didn't _seem_ inferior. He wasn't really sure what his father had meant by that, to be honest. She seemed pretty normal, truth be told.

He was nervous too. What if he was not in Slytherin? What if he was in Hufflepuff? The private tutor who had been hired by Father was a thin, unpleasant man, who always gave Scorpius bad marks. What if he was a duffer…

"Um, hello." The argument was interrupted, and Scorpius dragged from his thoughts, as a figure spoke at the carriage door. Scorpius knew who it was, and panicked slightly. There was only one family with flaming red hair like that.

"I'm Rose. Rose Weasley, and this is Albus. We, um, got kicked out of our compartment by some fifth years. Said that they needed it for experiments with a Kappa. I don't know where they'd get a Kappa from- but anyway, everywhere else is full. Can we sit here?"

The boy behind her made Scorpius panic even more, even though they shared a faint smile. It was Harry Potter's son, as everyone else picked up on when the conversation started up again. The boy called Sol asked him the occasional polite question, while Vera, with unrestrained glee, began to pepper him with the most irritating questions she could.

"So!", she said, after about ten minutes, "we do indeed have a little celebrity here with us. Magnificent. You can get us into Quidditch games."

Albus gave a nervous little smile. "I don't think-"

"Relax, Albus. She enjoys teasing people", murmured Sol. He'd said the least of everyone there, but not out of shyness or nervousness; Sol just didn't see the point in being talkative for the sake of it. Like Albus, he inhabited a world of books, but to a far greater extent; he was more a scholar than the dreamer Albus was. A calm and quiet boy.

The train continued to trundle. The five of them kept talking as the night grew dark. Even Scorpius began to speak up, and despite some initial frostiness, they managed to overcome the rivalries of their parents. Laughter began to animate the carriage, and grins were seen on all their faces.

"So," said Scorpius again, after some time. "Which house does everyone thing they'll be in?"

It was as if the last few hours had melted his prejudice and dislike for Muggle-borns and half-bloods right away. He'd rarely had friends before, and this time his father was not here to tell him what was right and what was wrong, who he could and could not talk to. And these friends were warmer than the few he'd known before.

"Again, don't care, just not the damn Gryfs," muttered Vera. "Bravery? No thanks. Too many large and irritating idiots would make their way there."

Rose looked shocked at this. "Well, I hope Gryffindor for me! My whole family went there! Better than _Slytherin-_ no offense", she added quickly, with a glance at Scorpius.

Vera simply stuck her tongue out. "Well, feel free to do so. I hope to be having interesting conversations with intelligent people."

There was a chuckle from Sol at that, which earned him a sharp glare. "Ravenclaw, I hope," came his soft voice.

"You still want to be a Slytherin, Scorpy?", came Vera's voice again, as she picked at her teeth.

Scorpius smiled, and simply said, "I think I'll let the hat decide that one."

Vera laughed. "Good luck dodging Hufflepuff, little one. What about you, Potter-boy?"

Everyone turned to Albus, who was silent for second, eyes wide. "G-Gryffindor."

"You sure?" Vera's expression was not malevolent, but quizzical. "You don't quite seem stupid enough."

Laughter all around as Albus blushed and grinned. He was beginning to relax, at last. Maybe it didn't matter where he went-

The train stopped, suddenly. Scorpius looked out of the window, and said with excitement, "We're here!"

And "here" they were. For across the shimmering lake, a castle of ancient stone stood tall, towering over them. Some parts were ancient, some were new and restored, but the whole of it gave an overwhelming impression of fortitude, magnitude and greatness.

And so it was that the five of them began their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It would be what those in future times would call an… _interesting_ start to their school career; a year that would give their start in the magical world a baptism of fire…


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat

_Chapter Two: The Sorting Hat_.

"Let's not do that again", snapped Vera.

The Lake had been a thoroughly pleasant boat journey, to begin with. The lanterns and candles reflected in the dark water, the moon overhead, the rippling reflection of the castle… but then a large squid had risen out of the water and splashed them all with very cold water.

Vera had been informed by Professor Sinistra, the deputy headmistress, that the Squid was a playful and intelligent creature which meant no maliciousness, and that she should treat the whole incident as a bit of fun. Vera was not amused.

But now they were all on dry land, and had all, in their confused and milling fashion, ascended those great steps to the main doors. They had entered the warmth, a huddled mass of students, and were standing in an anteroom. Portraits glared down at them from the walls, literally; they had been napping, it transpired, and did not take well to being disturbed.

"I thought the portraits were only supposed to sleep at night?" murmured Albus. Sol looked at him sharply at that, before muttering something in a concerned voice which Albus didn't catch.

"First years! Attention!" The aging but still beautiful Professor Sinistra looked out at them all, as they ceased. She nodded to the silent, grey-haired gamekeeper, Hagrid, who nodded back and left down a passageway.

"You are about to enter the Great Hall. I urge those among you unused to magic to…_constrain_ your enthusiasm about its ceiling. We have had certain problems regarding this in the past." The Professor swallowed, a slightly irate look on her face. "I would also ask you to refrain from fainting, if you a predisposed towards such."

A couple of giggles broke out in the crowd, but were quickly quashed by a glance. "Now, you are about to be sorted into your houses. You shall all file into the room _as calmly as possible_ and when I call your name, you shall come forward and be sorted. There are four houses: Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Each house has a highly illustrious history, and _no house is inferior or superior to any other_. So please do not be upset about being sorted into the wrong house. We had enough troubles with that last year."

Professor Sinistra seemed to Albus to be a rather world-weary woman- somewhat browbeaten by the hordes of students who pummelled through the halls every year. He recalled that she was one of the four teachers still around who had occupied a teaching post at the time of the Battle of Hogwarts; the premature lines in her face perhaps demonstrated this all too aptly.

The door was opened, and the students filed in. As Albus entered, he heard the gasps of the other students as they looked up at the ceiling, they saw the sky above, with the rain pouring down but not entering the hall. Albus had been brought up with magic but even he was impressed. "That is quite a charm," muttered Sol, clearly impressed.

Albus' heart was beginning to thump loudly. The moment was here. The snake and the lion wrestled for control in his head. _Not Slytherin_, he muttered feverishly. _Not Slytherin_.

The students all lined up, as the tables alongside them murmured feverishly. Albus caught sight of his brother, a wicked smile on his face as he stared from the Gryffindor table. _Probably deciding who to torment first_, he thought. A flit of anger passed through his head. James was bore; an uncultured swine whose first thought was of Quidditch and his last of pleasure.

There, standing on a stool at the top of the room, was a hat. It was not as grand as Albus expected; it was a run –down, beaten up old thing. A tear was scarred above the brim, and as the hall fell deathly silent, it began to sing:

_Eight hundred years ago I was worn,_

_My brim was ripped and I was singing torn,_

_Upon a skull I rested my old brow,_

_And much time has passed from then up to now._

_Kings and queens have been judged by my thinking,_

_From the tipple of their minds have I been drinking._

_I have seen much, thought much, and seen their all,_

_And sent their brains to the most fitting halls._

_I do my duty much as any,_

_And, I do confess, much more than many,_

_For I am the guard of the child's mind,_

_To send them to live amongst their own kind._

_Noble Gryffindor, on whose head I sat,_

_Knew the worth of an ever thinking hat,_

_For beneath the lion the bravest learn_

_Of chivalry and honour, for which they yearn._

_Good Hufflepuff, that matron of the best,_

_Would understand the value of the rest,_

_She would pity a poor hat like myself,_

_For Hufflepuffs will work harder than an elf!_

_Clever Ravenclaw did spin me a brain,_

_And imbued it with all the skills I crave,_

_To pluck out the wittiest and the bright,_

_And let their minds stretch more towards the light._

_Sly Slytherin, the most cunning of all,_

_Saw in me the wit for which I was born._

_Only those who held the canniest hearts_

_Would spin the webs of the great old snake's craft._

_So year on year, here I lie,_

_Waiting for an endless eternity,_

_From the one young soul to the next young soul,_

_The judgements come from this poor speaking hole._

_Now come one, come all, so I can peer,_

_At the many facts as they appear,_

_And send a great witch or fine wizard on,_

_To the tower or home where they belong._

There was applause at this, but somewhat subdued and scattered. Albus could tell why- it was a curious song, more serious and less playful to the ones he'd read about in the past. But he had little time to dwell upon such matters, for after a great intake of breath, Professor Sinistra called the first name.

"Angus, Noel."

A thin boy got up and walked over to the hat, carefully putting it on his head.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Cheering from the green table as the boy, looking relieved and perhaps a little smug, trotted over to their table.

"Abercrombie, Fitch."

A well-dressed fellow wandered up, to be met with a cry of "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bingen, Hildegard!"

A girl with a flute swung across her back was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!"

More names went past. Albus kept worrying, but in his worry he glanced up at the teacher's table. The Headmistress, one Professor Sprout, was not there; the chair was empty, even as all the other teachers were looking on eagerly. But such a mystery would have to wait; cries of "Hardrada, Harald" and "Hebraeus, Bar", who became a "GRYFFINDOR!" and a "RAVENCLAW!" respectively, interrupted his reverie, and brought him back to the matter at hand.

Finally, after a "Lekapenos, Romanos" was named a "SLYTHERIN!" it was Vera's turn…

_Well well well. What do we have here._

"Just don't put me with the damn Gryffindors, please", huffed Vera. "I don't want to be stuck with a b-"

_-unch of angry hormonal teenagers, yes. Don't worry yourself, Vera Macleod. You don't have the honour or chivalry for it. Don't get me wrong, you have a keen moral compass- but a rather more roguish one than a Gryffindor_.

"So… Slytherin?"

_Perhaps, perhaps… You aren't a hard worker, but I could still put you in Ravenclaw… no, no, there is too much cunning and ambition in your skull. Perhaps not the kind of ambition which makes one powerful, but the kind which makes one great, in their own way. An agent of chaos, that's what you plan to be…"_

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat roared, and the greens cheered as Vera, a half-smile on her face, went off to her table, noting the slightly shocked looks on the faces of Rose and Albus.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

Malfoy walked confidently up to the Hat, and put it on his head, waiting for the shout to put him on his rightf-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

There was silence for a moment, and a curious ringing inside Scorpius' head. "Why?"was the question in his head, the hat still upon his head as hands began, reluctantly, to clap on the Gryffindor table. The hat laughed inside his skull, and simply said, _Courage is found in unlikely places._

As Scorpius trundled off to the red table, his face scared and miserable, more names were read off. And before long, "Potter, Albus Severus."

Albus knew that his father would have faced a similar level of whispering and pointing, but what particularly irked him was the cheer he received from several Gryffindors. He was not sure what he wanted any more. The Snake and the Lion were in fierce combat for his heart, and he knew not which to listen to.

The hat was placed upon his head. _Well well well, another Potter. That's two of your kind I've had to judge._

Albus swallowed, remembered his father's words, and desperately began to think "Not Slytherin, n-"

_Oh would you be quiet. I've had quite enough of that today, and certainly enough from the Potters. Your father I almost placed there, but I put him in Gryffindor in the end. Despite the doubts I left him with, it was clear that his heart was already in that house. And as for your brother, he was born for that house. Not an ounce of cunning in him._

Albus couldn't help feel a tang of vindictive pleasure at James' past uncertainty- but then, thinking it would get him sent straight to the snakes, repressed the thought. A harrumph echoed in his thoughts. _That's almost a Gryffindor trait right there! The mindless division of the world into good and evil depending on your own prejudice! Now, let me think, let me think…_

_You are not a Hufflepuff. You lack the dedication; you are too spontaneous, though you are a hard worker. Your whole mind is similar to your father's really; but also different, very very different. The same balance, but a different angle- which I'm sure means little to you, but the world to me. No, you are not a Hufflepuff… or a Gryffindor._

Albus' heart clenched. The hat simply chuckled. _You have cunning, ambition, manipulation… you would make a good Slytherin… but might I remind you that there are four houses at Hogwarts, not one. You have ambition, but not for the sake of yourself or the world; you crave knowledge, above all else. No, Albus Severus Potter, I shall not sort you into Slytherin. Your lion and snake have a new friend: an eagle. For it is clear to me that you belong in _"RAVENCLAW!"

The hall seemed stunned by the news. The Ravenclaws cheered and howled and stamped their feet in happiness and mirth as a Potter joined their ranks. Albus was relived, more than he could imagine. A shroud seemed to have been lifted from his eyes, and as his small back was clapped by the happy hands of his peers, he grinned up at the ceiling. His nightmares turned bright again, and became the strangest, most inventive sort of dream.

More names filtered past, until suddenly came a call of "Tartarus, Solomon."

Solomon walked straight up, put the hat on his head, and immediately thought "What is going on here? Why is everything slightly wrong?"

And in response, he received a "RAVENCLAW!" and a lingering line in his head: _Curiosity killed the cat, Solomon the Wise._

More and more names flitted past the crowd, until the last name was called: "Weasley, Rose."

Rose nervously sat down, and the hat was placed softly on her head. _Ah, a Weasley… and a Granger, too. My my, that must be an interesting marriage._

"If that's the word", she thought with a smile.

A chuckle rebounded. _You have a good soul, Rose Weasley. And a… knowledgeable one. I know where you should go. _"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuffs, who had had few among their number that year, cheered loudly. Only six had been sorted to their house out of forty five, so all were included happily. Rose did not know what to think; but she had heard of the warmth of the yellow cellar, and thought to herself, _that would be a good place to read a book…._

Sol had sat next to his newfound friend on the Ravenclaw table, and the two grinned at each other. The year was ahead of them; and as they began to talk, a feast appeared before their eyes, full of succulent food from all corners of the globe…


End file.
